


Innocence Regained

by Cyath



Category: Tenkuu no Escaflowne | The Vision of Escaflowne
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 15:35:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14572104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyath/pseuds/Cyath





	Innocence Regained

Innocence Regained

I only realized it one day.

I was practicing, as usual. Somehow I couldn’t stop, even after the war did; the sword, the bow; they all came easily to my grasp as they always did. Too easily, I had often thought, but I didn’t have the luxury of stopping then. There was a war going on; Fanelia needed me. Hitomi needed me.

I didn’t need myself. But then again; it was a moot point. I simply didn’t think about myself like that, then.

Thunk, went the arrow. A perfect bulls-eye. Draw, nock, aim, fire. The second one split the first in half cleanly. 

It was only as I drew the third that I realized that, actually. The simple motion of swinging my hand back, taking out one slender wooden shaft and sighting it along my eyes had become almost repetitive; I didn’t even think anymore, that was how natural it was for me.

Somehow that worried me.

I felt suddenly tired. The arrows which had previously been as light as feathers had become leaden weights in my hand. I threw them to the side carelessly and went off to the other training room. A good workout was what I needed, I reasoned; archery was a mental exercise. As I entered the room, I found that my sword was as bright as ever, the blade still sharp and keen, the balance as perfect as always.

The first few swings did nothing to calm me. I threw myself into the familiar routines, the steel whistling in intricate patterns around me, but to no avail; still the sense of something nagging at me, the vague sensation of incompleteness and a slight apprehension all rolled into one. Sweat had long since beaded on my brow; my hair hung down in limp strands that plastered themselves to my face the same way my shirt did to my weary body.  
But nothing. No change besides a growing sense of tiredness, both in body and soul.

It was only when I raised my sword in the traditional position of Fanelian swordplay, held it out before me, straightened it, and with a swift motion centered it, that I truly realized what it was.

And then it only came slowly. Life is like that, you know? Things don’t come so fast; it’s never easy. Vargas appeared first. That was no surprise; I often thought of my old master and instructor...friend. He had drilled me in this position more times than I cared to remember, with his own particular mixture of coaxing, scolding, shouting and showing. So it was with a smile on my face that I struck the empty air once again.

The blade arced through the air as smoothly as ever; the next blow describing a perfect curve as it descended from my shoulder down to the ground. And the next. And next. My body felt cold, the faint sensations heightening in intensity, I remember, and then I saw Vargas again.

He was playing with me.

Oh, not the me I am now, not Van Fanel of Fanelia. Rather, a smaller, simpler version of Van, just Van, who had never seen a sword nor needed to, who knew only joy and happiness. Who had a brother and parents who loved him. A dead Van, but a happy one nonetheless. I had missed that Van before, but not with longing; rather, with a kind of wistful regret that I knew was nothing more than a dream.

The sword thudded to the ground dully. The smile had long since disappeared.

I strode out to the fields surrounding the castle. Vargas had faded from my thoughts, leaving only the swish of my booted stride through the knee-high grass to distract me. I found myself thinking of Hitomi, and smiling. She always did that to me; and then I found myself wondering what she would say if I told her that.

And then I knew. Both things, in a flash of realization.

Love is strange, isn’t it? Between worlds, thousands of miles apart, and she could still give me the answer I needed.

Merle’s cry of surprise rang out as she saw me bolting to the stables; it took but a minute to saddle my horse, and I was off. I had to laugh at the stunned expression on her face. She fell to all fours and began to pursue me, but I had too much of a head start, and I was through the rebuilt town walls in seconds, heading for my salvation.

Hitomi, I thought, hoping somehow, that my message would reach her. Thank you. Thank you for both the memories and the answer.

The scenery of Gaia flew by me as I raced along the country roads. Towns, farms, meadows...she would have loved them, I’m sure. The face appeared once, giving me a single fleeting smile, and in my mind’s eye I returned it. She was gone, but I kept her in my heart forever, the way she’d done for me. Finally, I came to a halt, tethering my horse to the nearest available tree and vaulting down from the saddle to the mossy ground.

The way we’d both done for each other here.

It wasn’t a long way to my brother’s grave. I’d made sure that the grove that would house his body wouldn’t ever be too far away from the castle; I wanted to visit him sometimes. Now I was going to, and I was going to with a reason. It was the last thing he’d do for me, and I for him; the answer I needed.

The final realization dawned just as I bowed my head in front of the altar marking Fanelia’s bravest warrior. My brother; Volken Fanel.

He was a great brother. He did everything a brother should; played with me, read stories, taught me how to ride a horse, walks in the countryside...everything. But it’s amazing how war can make you forget, can dull even the most cherished memories and turn them into mere vague remembrances instead of the golden thoughts they once were. That’s why it was only when I knelt before his grave a second time, my mind clear from the strife and terror of battle, that I could see him again.

He never wanted to fight. I can still remember now how his mouth would draw itself into a grimace of distaste every time he picked up a blade, how he always turned over all the instruction in swordplay to Vargas. He never took to the way of the warrior the way I did; maybe that was why he couldn’t kill the dragon, why, with his ideals and hopes and dreams, turned to Dornkirk instead of the people who had forced him to kill. With my eyes closed, hot with unremembered tears, I wondered for the first time why I’d never realized that.

Because I was still fighting, she replied.

The Escaflowne regarded me silently as I walked towards it. As I looked at the now dim red jewel in it’s side, Hitomi returned to my thoughts anew. Only she could have done it, actually. We of Gaia had become to accustomed to war, to the ceaseless clash of sword upon shield and the harsh whining sounds of gaimelfs marching. It took someone from another world, with a kind heart and soul, to make us realize. Even so, some of us will always be more thick-headed then others. I smiled wryly as I remembered the all too clear slap. I needed that. Oh how I needed that at that time. Silly warrior, I told myself, to fight with no true reason, no need to besides the force of habit.

But now it ended.

“Volken...” my voice was faint, hesitant even to myself, and I had to firm my resolve before continuing. “Thank you.” That, I had to do. I had to thank them both before I was free of the bonds still around me. Before I could bid farewell to the battle within my heart. 

He answered with the twittering of the birds and the calm, serene peace of the woods around me. That was the kind of answer I had always gotten from him; kind and to the heart.

I left for the last time that day, with the Dragon watching the soft imprints my feet made on the moist grass. Oh, sure, I would return, but in my heart I knew those were the last respects I would ever pay, or need to. He was within me, in the surest, most secure resting place I could ever give him.

The battle was over. I fell flat onto the grass, reveling in it it’s moist springiness and looked up towards the sky, wondering how come it had never seemed to have quite so beautiful a shade of blue. The answer (her answer, I reminded myself gently) came back to me in an instant. 

I had been fighting. So simple.

It takes a long time for a warrior to forget battle. But when he does, it is one of the most incredible things in life; the soul is free, the hear unburdened by the memories, the screams of dead and dying, the torn and shattered hopes. I spent hours like that, thinking, more glad to be alive that I had ever been, watching the clouds make their lazy way along the sky and slowly turn gray, then black. So, there was to be a storm. All the better.

Hitomi, I thought. Volken. All of you. Slowly, my mind retraced the journey, the adventure and travels we had all over Gaia. Allen, Mirana...Merle. My dear, sweet, Merle. It’s an important thing, love is. Having it, is...well, it’s like not needing to fight any longer; simply wonderful.

I raised my head to the sky, spread my arms, and smiled as the rain came down. Life was good. More than that, it was beautiful.


End file.
